Built for Sin
by TRDancer
Summary: AH. New boy Ben Cheney can see something in the preacher's daughter, Angela Weber, and he's desperate to free it. But when things go too far, will either of them find out where they belong?


**Built for Sin

* * *

**

Say so long to innocence,  
from underneath the evidence.  
You taste like heaven, but God knows you're built for sin.  
_Framing Hanley

* * *

_

_ Ben_

I stood in the front entryway of my new school in Forks, Washington, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other and crumpling the pages of the comic book in my right hand. My mother was in the front office signing tons of papers that confirmed who I was, where I had come from, and where I was going. I knew I should have been happy to get away from the monotony of my old school, but, in actuality, I knew life would be just as monotone here.

In fact, it would probably be worse, seeing as it had been raining for the past week... nothing like permanently gray skies.

I surveyed the students passing through the lobby just beyond the set of doors in front of me. It only took two groups—a bunch of guys in football uniforms and a smaller collection of boys and girls carrying large piles of books—passing by, before I decided that this school was just as stereotypical and boring as my old one, just as I had predicted.

"Okay, honey," my mom said, her voice breaking me out of my nervous twitch, "you're all set." She shoved a bunch of papers at me, and my hand instinctively curled around them. "That's your schedule, etcetera. You have lunch right now. The secretary told me that all you have to do is walk straight down that hallway." She pointed, and I nodded, noting that it was the direction all the students had been trickling toward.

She sighed loudly and grabbed my face between her hands, knocking a piece of my brown hair into my eyes. "You have fun," she commanded as I tried to get out of her grip.

"I'm sure I will, Mom. Will you let me go now?"

She did, and I rubbed my cheeks with the back of my hands. I loved my mother, but she was really freaking embarrassing.

Not to mention the fact that she'd forced me to come to school even though I'd slept in by about three hours.

I would only be a little late, she'd said. Just a little.

Right...

"Bye, sweets," she called as she passed through the doors behind me. I waved shortly and turned to the doors in front of me.

"Goodbye, old. Hello, new," I muttered as I walked through them.

I followed a group of loud, giggling girls down the hallway to the cafeteria and continued into the line behind them. I grabbed a tray and put my papers on it, placing a plate on top of them. I allowed the lunch lady to pile some sort of mush onto my plate, grabbed an orange, and paid the cashier for the food.

Then I turned to the animalistic hierarchy that was the high school cafeteria and its tables.

Where the _hell_ was I supposed to sit?

Thankfully, this question was answered by a short and curly-haired brunette that was waving frantically in my direction. I decided to assume she was calling me over and manoeuvred my way to the table.

"Hi," I started to say when I reached the table.

My attempt to quickly rid the conversation of awkwardness was interrupted by a blinding flash. I instinctively reached to cover my eyes, losing my grip on my tray. I went to correct it, only to find that a different brunette, this one tall and slender, had already caught the tray and was placing it on the table.

"Sorry," the tall brunette mumbled, looking up at me. "I needed a candid."

"It's okay," I said, noticing how good the girl's body looked in the tight leather jacket she was wearing, as well as the expensive-looking camera sitting in front of her. I sat down hesitantly. "What for?"

"The paper. We usually do a feature on new kids—that is, unless you don't want us to," she was quick to add.

"No, no, that sounds cool. I'm not very interesting, though," I told her, smiling.

"That's okay. It's better than nothing."

"Ahem." A blonde cleared her throat from the other side of the girl with the camera. "I think it's due time for introductions."

"Oh, I'm Ben Cheney," I said in a rush.

The blonde laughed, and I cringed, something about the sound totally turning me off her otherwise seriously hot looks.

"Of course, we all know that. I'm Lauren Mallory," she purred, giving me what I was sure was supposed to be a seductive look. I nodded briefly, slightly creeped out that she had known my name before I had told her—though it was to be expected in a town as small as Forks, I supposed.

"I'm Jessica Stanley. It's so nice to have you here!" the curly-haired girl gushed.

"I'm Mike Newton, and this is my boy, Eric Yorkie," a blonde dude said, smacking his brown-haired counterpart on the back as he said his name.

Eric winced and then added, "Welcome to Forks High. We don't get new kids all that often, so it's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you all, too," I said after swallowing the bite of mush I had stuffed in my mouth. "What's your name?" I directed the question at the girl with the camera, who was completely focused on her food.

She glanced up and blushed. "I'm Angela."

"Angela No-Last-Name?" I teased.

"N-no," she stuttered out and then laughed. "Angela Weber."

"Today's Angela's birthday," Jessica added.

Angela's cheeks seemed to deepen in colour.

"Oh, really? Happy birthday," I said. I wondered how old she was, but didn't want to seem nosy by asking. In truth, I wanted to ask her many questions, some that were probably kind of inappropriate. Angela was the person at the table that interested me most.

"It's nothing," she muttered.

"I bought her the jacket she's wearing," Jessica added. "What do you think?"

I coughed in surprise, blinking at Angela. "You look really good," I managed to say.

"Thanks," she almost whispered.

Jessica leaned across the table and whispered something to Angela that made her cheeks turn a light shade of pink. I noticed her eyes flick toward me before she turned to Jessica and told her something I couldn't hear.

"So, Ben," the guy called Eric said, breaking me out of my trance, "is that a comic book?" He pointed at my tray.

I glanced down at it, then at Eric again. "Sure is. I'm a big fan of anime and kung fu—things like that."

"Dude! You like action movies, then?" Mike said enthusiastically. "This dimwit here will never go see them with me!"

"Yeah, well, this nimrod refuses to have anything to do with anime," Eric shot back, punching Mike in the shoulder. Mike went to retaliate, but Jessica grabbed his fist.

"Knock it off, you two. We don't need you to be suspended for fighting again." She smiled in Eric's direction, and Eric smiled back, looking kind of like a lovesick puppy.

Mike pulled his arm out of Jessica's grip and rubbed it. His expression was annoyed, bordering on jealous. I tried not to laugh at the scene, muffling a snort with my sleeve.

The bell rang then, jerking everyone out of their respective trances and alerting us to the fact that it was time to part ways and go to our next classes.

We all got up, and I followed Angela, unsure of what to do with my tray. I added mine to the pile she threw hers on as Mike sidled up beside me and asked, "Hey, Ben, what class do you have next?"

I smoothed out my schedule, squinting at the tiny lettering in the blocks. "Phys. Ed. You?"

"I've got English right now," Mike said, sounding almost disappointed. "Maybe we have some morning classes together."

"Maybe," I absently repeated. I turned to leave the cafeteria before realizing I didn't know where the gym was. Even though there was probably a map in my stack of papers, I didn't want to be the stereotypical new kid, hiding behind a piece of paper, so I quickly caught Angela's arm.

"Hey, Angela, right?" I started, just in case my brain was majorly failing and I was wrong about her name. She nodded and I continued, "What's your next class?"

"Same as Mike," she answered. I felt awkward having to look up at her as we walked. I always knew I was short, but damn, this chick was _tall._

"Ah, damn. I thought you could show me where the gym is."

Angela laughed. "It's not that difficult. It's just the big building in that direction." She pointed to the right.

I joined in with her laughter. "You're right, not hard at all. Thank you!"

"No problem," she said, turning in the opposite direction.

I watched her go, and for the rest of the day my mind was full of the way her eyes had sparkled when she laughed and the way her hair and hips swayed together as she walked away from me.

A few weeks passed, during which I settled into the way of life of Forks High School students. I sat with the same crowd from the first day at lunch, bonding with Eric over anime and Mike over action movies. I endured Jessica and Lauren's endless girl chatter, all the while watching a certain Angela Weber intently.

Angela was somewhat of an enigma. She joined in Jess and Lauren's conversations, but more often she would keep quiet, seemingly thinking about something that would be far beyond any of our understandings. This day was one of the ones where she didn't speak at all, choosing instead to stare off into space.

I really, _really_ wanted to know what it was she was actually thinking about.

But since I was too damn insecure to ask her, I resorted to discussing the latest action movie release with Mike.

"That trailer was epic. Like—"

"Dun dun dun, punch faces!" I mocked, grinning at him as we walked to put our trays away.

"...yeah, how'd you know I was going to say that?"

"Dude, you say it _every time_ you describe a movie."

He made a face. "It's a pretty accurate description."

I snorted. "Whatever, man."

I brushed ahead of him to dump and stack my tray. Turning to go to gym, I spotted the flash of Angela's camera and remembered something I'd been meaning to ask her—something a little less creepy than 'What do you think about on a day to day basis?'

I hurried to catch up with her, calling out her name. She stopped and turned around. Breathing heavily, I smiled and commented, "You were awfully quiet today."

She shrugged. "Just thinking about things," she told me, leaning to one side and scratching her arm almost nervously.

_Things_, she said. I itched to ask her what things, but managed to restrain myself.

"I see. Well, I was just wondering..." I started and then stopped, my mind having gone completely blank at the sight of her biting down on a perfectly shaped fingernail, her brown eyes fixed on my face.

_Shit, what was I going to ask? C'mon, man, get a grip!_

"Wondering what?" she prompted, dropping her hand back to her side, and the question came flooding back, along with my ability to move.

"I wanted to know if you were still planning on doing that news feature on me. I think I saw somewhere that the newspaper comes out on the first of every month or something like that."

"Oh, of course I am." She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I have to help out around the house tonight, babysit and such, but you could come over so I can do the interview. The twins won't get in our way, and I'm a female; I can multitask."

I made a face at her jibe. "If you're busy..." I began, but she cut me off with a shake of her head.

"No, it'll be fine," she was quick to say. "Meet me in front of the school after last class, then?"

I nodded, and she smiled at me before hurrying down the hallway, which was slowly emptying of students, indicating that I was almost late for class. I turned and ran in the opposite direction, just barely squeaking into class on time.

The next two periods passed slowly. Every minute spent running laps around the gymnasium ticked by slower than ever, but that was soon out done by the sheer boredom of Spanish, during which the second hand seemed to move once an hour. After class, the teacher held me back to tell me off for a recent test mark I'd received—all that "you can do better than this" and "you need to study" crap—instantly making me loathe her even more than I already did for being the one trying to force a second language into my brain.

I rushed to my locker after the yelling session, shoving my shit inside and slamming the door. I ignored Eric's attempts to show me something and rushed out the front doors.

Immediately, I cringed back from the rain pouring from the sky and glanced around, spotting Angela at the other end of the wall of doors, seemingly just staring at the ground. I headed toward her, and, as I did so, realized that she was actually looking at something that was on the ground.

"Hey, Angela, what are you looking at?"

She glanced up at me and then gestured to the ground. I looked down and saw that it was her camera. I frowned and bent down to pick it up.

"Is it broken?" she asked quietly, on the verge of tears.

I turned it over in my hands, inspecting it carefully and then held it out to her. "No, I don't think so."

She took it from me and examined it herself, then lifted it up and snapped a picture of me, causing sunspots to appear in front of my eyes. It must have worked, because she sighed in relief.

"You really need to stop randomly blinding me," I teased. "What happened, anyway?"

"I was holding it in my hands when a boy opened the door and almost hit me," Angela replied as she tucked the camera safely in its specially padded case. I noted that her voice was much clearer now. "I lost hold of it and it fell. I think I was in shock—all I could do was stare..."

"Well, at least it didn't break," I reasoned.

She nodded grimly.

"I shouldn't have been standing so close to the doors," she lamented as I grabbed her hand spontaneously and pulled her out into the rain, heading toward the student parking lot.

"It's not your fault, Ang," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. "Any sane person would want to stay out of the rain for as long as possible."

She didn't look convinced, but didn't protest, so I let the issue drop when I let go of her hand and motioned to the passenger side of my car, a black Grand AM that had been rightly christened 'Baby'.

Once we were both buckled in, I revved up the engine and flipped on the windshield wipers. Then something occurred to me. "Wait, you don't have a car, right?"

"Nope," she replied. I breathed a sigh of relief and began to reverse out of the parking space. "I live close enough to walk to school, and it costs too much to get a car."

"Makes sense," I reasoned, though I kinda thought it was a bit awkward that I could afford a car and she couldn't. "Where am I headed?"

She gave me directions to her house, and I pulled into her driveway shortly. We got out of the car and ran for the front door, shielding our heads with our bags. She pulled open her door, revealing a man I assumed was her father pulling on a large black coat. The way he had it spread over his head reminded me of a bat, and I stuck close to Angela as we entered the house.

"Oh, hello, Angela. The boys are watching TV in the living room. I'll be home sometime after supper." The reverend swept out the door, appearing to not have noticed me. I stared after him in disbelief, comparing his behaviour to that of my mother's; she would have obsessed over me, making sure I was all right and would be fine, worrying far too much before she'd ever leave. His walking straight out the door amused me somehow, though it was sad.

"Well, that was interesting," I commented, the amusement showing in my voice.

Angela shrugged. "That's how my dad usually is." She kicked her shoes off and poked them neatly into a corner. I quickly copied and followed behind her. "Joshua? Isaac?" she called, poking her head into the living room, where two boys around seven years old were sitting side by side on the couch, staring at the TV.

One of them looked up at us and frowned. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing at me.

"I'm Ben," I said quickly. "One of Angela's friends from school."

"What's he doing here?" the other one chimed.

"He's going to help me with some things for school. Do you two have any homework?" Angela asked sternly. They shook their heads at the same time. "You're positive?" They switched to a nod. "Okay. As you were."

Angela gestured for me to follow her into the kitchen, where she dumped her backpack next to a bar stool and proceeded to the counter. I settled onto the bar stool her backpack was by, putting mine down next to hers, and rested my cheek on my hand, watching as she started to put dishes into the dishwasher.

"Your brothers are cute," I said to break the silence.

She glanced up at me and nodded. "Yeah. They can really be little terrors, though."

"Oh, I bet." I laughed, remembering all the mischief I'd gotten into when I was their age.

"You seem to have made yourself comfortable," she remarked.

"What else was I supposed to do while you played housewife?" I teased.

She glared at me. "Nothing, I guess." She finished loading the dishwasher and added soap, closing it and hitting start before turning to me.

"What kind of questions are you going to ask me?" I jumped in before she could say anything.

She sighed. "Just basics, for the most part. Where you're from, etcetera. That's okay, right?"

I nodded and she sat down in the bar stool next to mine. "Do you need paper?" I asked. She nodded. I hurriedly grabbed a bunch from my binder, ripping it out instead of snapping open the rings, and handed it to her.

She looked at the ripped side in distaste. "What did you do that for?"

I shrugged. "Quicker."

She snorted and then cleared her throat. "Do you have a pen, too?" I fished one out of my backpack and passed it to her. She scribbled on the page and then looked at me sideways.

"So, where are you from?"

"Albuquerque," I answered.

She jotted that down and then asked, "What's your favourite colour?"

"Green."

The questions continued for a while. The room was filled with the sounds of our quiet voices, the rain on the windows, and the scratch of Angela's pen—along with the ever present faint sound of cartoons.

There was a lull as Angela thought about what to ask next. She tapped the end of the pen against her cheek, and then bit the end of it thoughtfully. I watched as her teeth dug into the black plastic, fascinated by her impeccably white teeth. I remembered when they'd flashed at me just like that earlier today, only she had been biting her nail, not her pen. I silently debated which was sexier for a moment and then shook the thought.

The silence felt like it was dragging on too long, so I burst out with the first thing that popped into my head. "What's it like being the reverend's daughter?"

She looked over at me, her expression confused. "I don't know. Not much different from any other family, I guess."

"It's got to be different from mine," I reasoned. "I don't go to church or anything."

She frowned. "You don't?"

I shook my head. "My mom isn't into the whole religion thing. I guess you could call her agnostic."

"What about you?"

I was silent for a moment. How did I feel about religion? I wasn't exactly sure.

"Well..." I began hesitantly, "I want to live my life for me. In my experience, religion seems to give people much less freedom than they are deserving of." I glanced over to see that she was staring at me intently and continued, "It causes people to constantly live in fear of some higher power. I just know that I would hate to live with this constant fear of sinning hanging over my head."

"But if you don't believe in God, what inspires you? I would be terrified to say that God doesn't exist. "

I considered her question for a minute before answering. "I'm inspired by all the people in the world," I said. "I'm inspired by how my mother continues to deal with me even though my father is AWOL. I'm inspired by the fact that Baby runs even though she is way too old. Hell, I'm inspired by the grass continuing to grow every day. Those things don't need God to be real. They just _are_."

"Baby?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in astonishment.

I blinked. "My car."

"Oh."

The look her face morphed into as we sat quietly bewildered me. It was the look of someone who was realizing something they had thought impossible, something that shouldn't even be possible, but was.

I didn't really think what I had said qualified, but I went with it.

"I want to live like you do," she finally said. "I want to live without fear."

I smiled. "You can. You only need to try."

"But my dad..."

"He should be able to understand," I pointed out. "If he truly believes, he will understand." I paused. "Hey, is this off the record?"

She smiled at me, laughing at my rather feeble joke, and we moved on to working on calculus, which we discovered we were both terrible at.

But something in her face—something a bit more devious, a bit more calculating, even more thoughtful than usual—told me that I had somehow made a mistake.

"Okay, spill it. What did you do to Angela?" Jessica demanded, her body pressing mine into my locker. It would have been a hot position to be in if, a) she hadn't been yelling at me and, b) I weren't seriously interested in someone else.

"I didn't do anything," I said, gasping for air. "Could you let go of my shirt?"

She obliged, stepping away from me so I could at least stand up properly, even if she wasn't giving me as much personal space as I would have liked.

Jessica crossed her arms and glared at me. "Right, you didn't do anything. Then _why_ the _hell _did she _shoplift_?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "She _shoplifted_? Angela? Are you sure you're—"

"Yes, I'm damn well sure. I was there. Good old preacher's daughter Angie fucking picked up a necklace, stuck it in her pocket, and walked out of the store."

I stared at Jessica, not believing the words coming out of her mouth. "But Angela doesn't even swear," I said pathetically.

Jess snorted. "What, you didn't hear her say 'fuck' today at lunch? And this isn't the first sign of odd behaviour, you know. She stayed at my house until midnight last week. She was supposed to be home at ten. The Angela I know would never do that."

I glanced around the empty hallway nervously. Could what I'd said to Angela really have made her act out this much?

"So, Benny boy, tell me. What did you do to Angela?"

"I told her to live without fear," I said. "But that didn't mean go out and steal and break rules."

Jessica stared at me. "You know how I'm sort of a bitch and such?"

I nodded quickly.

"Well, Angela is, like, what completes me. All meek and mild and such. We balance each other out. The way she's acting now totally throws the balance off." She unfolded her arms, dropping them to her sides. "I want you to fix it. Get me the real Angela back."

"How do I do that?" I asked desperately.

"You said something to screw it all up. Say something to fix it." Jessica turned on her heel and strode down the hallway, leaving me standing in front of my locker alone. I leaned back and let my head loll against the metal.

Before I could even give what had just happened a thought, the bell rang and students started pouring out of the classrooms. Eric appeared beside me.

"Yo, Ben. 'Sup?"

I shrugged.

"You sick?"

I shook my head. "No, Jessica told me to ask to go to the bathroom so she could talk to me."

Eric frowned. "You aren't cheating on Angela, are you?"

"Of course not. Besides, I'm not dating Angela, so I couldn't cheat on her, anyway."

"It's the principle of the thing," he insisted. "You've had something going on since she interviewed you for the paper week before last." He paused, then added, obviously trying to be nonchalant, "What did Jess want?"

"She wants me to talk to Angela. Apparently Angela hasn't been acting normal lately."

Eric nodded. "She hasn't; I've noticed. What are you going to do?"

"Talk to her, I guess."

"Well, don't be too harsh, man. Them girls, they're fragile."

"Thanks, dude." I turned to leave and then paused. "And Eric? Tell me how it goes with Jessica, all right?"

I laughed at his surprised expression as I headed out of the school. I passed the front doors of the school by, instead ducking down a side hallway and out one of the other doors, one that I knew was closer to where I'd parked Baby, and smacked directly into something.

Or some_one_.

"Angela?" I asked, totally caught off guard.

"Ben? What are you doing over here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

She fidgeted with something in her fingers, then dropped the object and stepped on it.

"Were you _smoking_?" I asked incredulously.

Angela looked guilty. "I wanted to try it," she muttered.

"You don't need to _try_ smoking to know that it sucks, Angela!" I pointed out.

"Oh, I don't? Who said?"

"I did!"

"Last time I checked, you're not my father."

"Yeah, well, judging by the way you've been acting lately, even if I were your father you wouldn't be listening. Shoplifting, staying out way past curfew, swearing—what's next, having underage sex?"

"No," she said, her hurt expression almost making me feel guilty. _Almost_. "Why are you doing this, Ben? I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand what? Why you want to break all the rules all of a sudden? _Of course_ I don't understand. I want you to stop."

"It's not about breaking the rules; it's about being free," she said quietly. "You're just like everyone else, telling me I can't do what I want. I have to do what _you_ want. Well, you know what, Ben?" She paused, as if expecting an answer that I didn't provide. "I'm not going to listen this time. I'm going to do things my way."

Angela turned on her heel, just like Jessica had earlier, and started walking down the small flight of steps away from me.

"Do you even know what you want?" I called after her.

She didn't reply.

She just kept walking.

I watched as the bright red digits on my alarm clock changed from 11:10 to 11:11 and then closed my eyes and made a wish, just like my mom had taught me to do when I was small.

_I wish for everything to be okay._

It wasn't the best wish I'd ever made, but it was all I could think of.

Mike had called an hour earlier to tell me that he'd seen Angela heading to a party with Tyler and his buds. I may not have lived in Forks for very long, but it was long enough to know that they were trouble.

_This_ was trouble. I wanted Angela home and safely tucked into bed.

My car keys called to me from the bedside table. I stared at them. _I shouldn't. She can take care of herself._ But I felt my fingers reaching out and closing around the metal anyway. _Just a quick in and out. If she's fine, I'm gone. If she's not... well, that's just not an option._

I headed up the stairs and past my mother, who was baking something in the kitchen, something she often did when she couldn't get to sleep.

"Where are you going?" she asked as I made my way past.

"Out."

"Don't sass me, young man. Out where?"

"There's this party Mike wants me to check out. I'll be back in an hour at the most." I fiddled with my keys. "That's okay, right?"

"Sure, honey. Call if you're going to be later than that."

"I will."

I hurried out the door and down the front steps to my car, quickly getting in and starting the engine. I followed the short roads of Forks randomly, knowing I would know the party when I saw it. Sure enough, I came across a pretty large house for Forks that loud music and laughter poured out of. I managed to find myself a parking spot about a block away and walked back to the house.

No one was paying enough attention to notice me letting myself in. A punch cup filled with booze was shoved into my hand, and the smell of pot was very apparent in the house. I pushed my way through the sea of bodies, looking for Angela.

A guy stumbled into me, grabbing my shoulder for support. "What're you doin' here?" he asked, hiccupping.

"I'm, uh, looking for Angela." I squinted at the guy. I didn't recognize him at all.

"Oh, is tha' the preacher chick?" I nodded. "She was a real hoot, yeah. She acts to'ally crazy when she's drunk. And then she just randomly hits the floor. Oh yeah, it was great."

"What? She blacked out? Where is she?" I demanded.

He gestured over his shoulder. "She wa' in there. Now, 'scuse me." He pushed past, no doubt heading for a bathroom... or more booze.

I pushed my way into the living room of the house and immediately spotted Angela lying face down on the couch. I went right over to her and grabbed her shoulder, shaking her as I flipped her over.

"Angela?" I asked. "Ah, shit." Her skin felt cold, and she looked really pale. _Oh my God, she's dead. _

But then she took in a sharp breath and let it out in wheezes.

_She's not dead. But she might be soon. _

"Shit, shit, shit." I worked my arm underneath her back and the other one beneath her knees before lifting her up.

Shoving people aside, I made my way out onto the street and to my car. Every step of the way, I felt the weight in my arms and the dread in my heart.

_ This was my fault, my fault, my fault..._

I tucked her into the backseat of the car, strapping her seatbelt the best I could, and got into the front, hitting the gas and nearly flooring it across town to the hospital.

I carried her into the ER, where they whisked her away to do something or other after I told them that she'd drunk a lot and blacked out. A nice nurse showed me to one of those really, really comfortable hospital waiting room chairs and gave me some water. She then informed me that Angela had alcohol poisoning and had to have her stomach pumped.

I waited. I don't know for how long, but at one point the same nice nurse told me that I should probably call my mom, which I did. She didn't answer the phone, so I left a message telling her where I was and went back to staring at the very white walls.

Finally, I got sick of staring and asked the nurse—a different one this time; there had obviously been a shift change—what was going on. She informed me that Angela was resting in a room, and should be left alone. Then she seemed to change her mind for some reason and told me I could sit by her bed as long as I was quiet.

Angela looked terrible lying there in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines, even though many of them weren't even turned on. She looked like she was made of paper, like I could fold her up and put her into my pocket. I kind of wanted to. At least in my pocket I could keep her nice and safe.

I hadn't been sitting there for long when her eyelids fluttered a bit, followed by her eyes snapping all the way open. She blinked a couple times and then began to sit up. Her hand immediately flew up to her head.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said, the words escaping from my mouth without my permission.

She turned her head to look at me, lying back down. "Where am I? What happened?"

"You went to a party. You were drinking a lot and blacked out. I came to see if you were all right and found you passed out on the couch. I brought you here. You had alcohol poisoning and the doctors had to pump your stomach..." I trailed off, taking a deep breath. "Angela, I don't—I don't understand." My voice broke, and I fought to hold back tears. "Why would you do this? I never meant for you to do anything like this. I just—just wanted to see that girl, that one inside of you that you've been hiding away. I knew she was there."

A lone tear managed to start creeping down my cheek before I brushed it away, not looking Angela in the eye. I felt so helpless and stupid.

I heard her take a deep breath and then let it out. "Ben," she began quietly, "what are you even doing here?"

I raised my head and looked at her. "What?"

"I asked you what you're doing here."

"I was trying to help—"

"Well, you're not helping. Could you leave, please?"

"Angela, I don't—"

"I said _leave_!"

I frowned and got up, walking back out to the waiting room and sitting down in my chair. She could act like a bitch and kick me out of her room, but I wasn't going to leave her alone in the hospital.

It seemed like only a few moments later when I opened my eyes to see Angela's father towering over me, glaring. "What are you doing here, boy?"

"I—"

"Save it. You're that Ben boy, aren't you? The one that sent my daughter down the path of damnation and sin. You gave my daughter an express ticket to Hell."

"You're right," I interrupted. "It is my fault that Angela is here. But it's just as much your fault that you couldn't see the beauty in your own daughter. You're keeping her in a cage, Reverend."

The red colour of his face deepened with every second that passed. Finally, he turned and walked into Angela's room. I closed my eyes and let my head rest against the wall.

The next time I opened them, a nurse was hovering over me. "Sorry to wake you, honey. But the girl said she wanted to talk to you."

"Is her dad gone?" I asked, rubbing my eyes.

"Yes, he said he needed to attend to something at home."

I nodded and got up, shuffling quietly over to Angela's room and poking my head in cautiously.

"Ben," she said almost immediately. "I have something to say to you."

"Yeah, what's that?"

"I was talking to my dad just now, and everything he said sounded completely out of whack and made no sense. And that really freaked me out, because usually when my dad gives speeches, they really mean something to me."

"Yeah, so?" I was pretty fucking tired and annoyed by that point.

She glared at me. "Hear me out. While he was talking, I kind of thought over what you said to me earlier. I just wanted to tell you that, despite what you may think, I _have_ found that girl. It may not have been the best way to do it, but if I had a choice, I would do it all over again just for that feeling of complete freedom." She was quiet for a moment before adding, "I'm never going to feel that again after this. I'm pretty much grounded for life."

I opened my mouth to say something, but she shook her head.

"And I'm not even supposed to talk to you. So, you can leave now. I don't want him to come back and see you here."

I obliged, only shooting a solitary glance back at Angela and telling her, "I'm sorry things had to be this way."

I thought I saw her nod before I turned away and ran down the hallway and out the doors to my car. I drove on autopilot all the way home, and when I got there, I threw myself onto my bed and cried as if I was three and had lost my favourite blanket.

Lockers slammed. Kids gossiped. Teachers gossiped, too. It was all so normal, yet nothing was normal. Not since that night two weeks ago.

Angela never even looked at me at any point in time, much less talked to me. I didn't try to talk to her, either. I figured it was for the best, even though it made something in my chest hurt every time I thought of her.

"Ben," Eric gasped out, having just run up to my locker. "Guess what."

"What?" I asked dully.

"I asked Jessica out, and she said yes."

"That's great, man," I told him, and I meant it. But it was another of those things that made me feel as if I was missing something.

How could life continue on like this? It didn't make sense.

But then again, it did.

It was snowing, so I was the only one outside during lunch hour. I liked the snow; it was a new experience for me, being from New Mexico. It seemed so peaceful being out in it, like the snow was forming a blanket around you.

"What are you doing out here?" a familiar voice asked me. I took a sharp breath. That voice hadn't talked to me in almost a month. I turned slowly to see Angela standing behind me, her arms wrapped protectively around her body.

"It's nice," I answered simply.

She nodded, biting her bottom lip in a way I found extremely sexy, even after everything she had done to hurt me. "Can I sit here?" She indicated the empty space on the bench next to me.

I shrugged, and she brushed the snow off it, sitting down cautiously. "So, my father called me into his study last night," she said matter-of-factly.

"Oh?"

She nodded and continued, "He'd been drinking. He never drinks. He asked me to explain why I did what I did, you know."

I nodded, putting my hand encouragingly on hers. I had to admit, I'd missed the feel of her skin.

"So I did. I told him about what you told me and how I really felt all repressed by how he expected me to be the mother in the family. I was always doing everything that my mom used to do and taking care of Josh and Isaac while he went out and hid from the shambles of a family we'd become. I love the twins, but it's hard to be a typical teenager like I used to be when you're doing all the housework." Her breath caught, and I squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I just want him to be my dad, you know?"

"I know."

She stared down at the snow for a moment and then looked at me. "Can I have a hug?" I considered it for a moment and then gave into the temptation, spreading my arms a bit. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. "Thanks, Ben," Angela whispered in my ear. "I've missed you. I just didn't think you'd want me around after everything I did. I'm really freaking sorry."

I nodded, almost laughing at her use of what was definitely not a swear, and she pulled back. "I missed you, too," I told her. "What did your dad say about all that?"

"I made him cry," she said wonderingly, frowning. "I've never seen him cry. Not even when my mother died. Anyway," she took a deep breath, "he told me that he didn't know he had that effect on me. He thought he was helping me when he was really making life hard for me. He promised that he's going to try harder from now on. He's going to raise Josh and Isaac right."

"That's really great," I said.

She nodded. "He told me something else, too."

"What was that?"

Angela turned her head to look at me, and I copied the movement, shifting my body closer to her so that our thighs were touching. "He told me that he understands where you're coming from now."

"Where am I coming from?" I wondered.

"Somewhere really, really amazing," she said, and suddenly her mouth was on mine, and we were kissing, and the world seemed to stop, but still the snow fell on and on, surrounding us completely.

It was just her and me; the snow and us.

I knew in that moment that my wish had come true. Everything was going to be okay.

And that was perfect enough for me.

* * *

**Thank you to my wonderful and seriously amazing betas, LuluM, LoveofEscapism, nowforruin, and MrsKatyCullen. Thanks to anythingzombie for pre-reading and telling me it was awesome, 'cause I like to hear the positive before I have to hear the negative. Thank you to RMJ Lennixx for writing up the initial plot that I built upon all those months ago, and thank you to anyone who ever told me it sounded really cool and that I should keep writing it.**

**And thank you for reading. :)**


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